


Rust, Springs and Shiny Things

by Averander



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Amputation, Amputation Kink, Baby onboard, Body Horror, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut smut smut, F/M, Junkrat/Explosions, M/M, Mystery Pairing - Freeform, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Who's The Father?, Winston/Peanutbutter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:59:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averander/pseuds/Averander
Summary: Being a single mother in an apocalyptic wasteland was never going easy, and it didn’t become easier when Talon became interested in a package you find in the wasteland.Now with two Junkers ‘helping’ you escape and your last refuge blown sky high, things were just starting to go down in flames.Well, they couldn’t get any worse, right?MakoYouJunkrat Mainly YouJunkrat





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm kind of just posting this as I go, not sure how this will turn out but hey, can't be too bad. Eventually this will probably turn into a smut fest. Maybe. If I ever finish anything, but I do have a good idea of the beginning, middle and end of this so... maybe it will? HA as if I've never finished a story in my life lol. The odds are not in your favour.

Excited gurgling filled your ears as tiny fingers reached up to bat at your chin. Your own hands busy picking at scrap, trying to find something decent in this haul that would make this trip worthwhile. There were some interesting things, broken weaponry but nothing like power cells or cores to make use of in your ‘workshop’. Some tires, all deflated, but you could use the rubber for something, the problem was they were far too big for your rig to haul back. 

That was when you noticed something behind all the rubbish, a little glint of a symbol that you had thought out of your life for good. 

“What do we have here.” The baby cooed in delight as you pulled a large metal panel out of the way of the canister, the symbol of the broken organisation emblazoned on the side of it. “See that Maxi? Daddy worked at Overwatch. Wonder what the hell it’s doing here.” You rubbed at the back of your head as you looked around. This was the middle of nowhere, quite literally, Alice Springs was not exactly the centre of operations of any Overwatch division you knew of. Or well, any organisation. Ever. Still, it would have something worth its weight in it, the locks were intact so it definitely contained something. “Looks like Mummy hit the jackpot on this one.” Your response was a very agreeable goo.

You pick up the canister by the handle with a bit of effort and lots of legwork, careful not to crush the baby in the process as it swings precariously. Who seems rather unperturbed about the whole situation as he sits happily strapped to your chest. The canister fits snuggly in the back of your truck, or well, what serves as a truck. It’s more of a trike that’s been bastardised to serve as truck through haphazard experimentation, screwing and welding. 

“Ok Maxi, ready to go home?” 

“Ho ho.” He claps his hands in that uncoordinated way that only a baby can, his chubby head struggling to look up at you as he smiles. You just can’t help but smile back as you wipe the sweat from your brow. 

“That’s right, ho ho home.” He lets out a shriek of delight as you get on the trike, still struggling to clap his little chubby hands as the engines of the beast roar to life and you set off into the desert. 

~   
Winston stared into jar, a small sigh escaping his lips as he scratched the back of his head. Empty. Just like the others. Where was he going to find more peanut butter at a time like this? Who would even sell a jar of peanut butter to an 8-foot-tall gorilla anyway? Was there no end to the questions that the empty tub would bring him!? 

“Winston. I’m receiving a signal from Package ATHN-437 from Alice Springs, Australia.” 

“ATHN-43….” Winston’s eyes widened, that designation… he hadn’t heard it since… “Are you sure about that Athena? I mean… they were destroyed when-” He paused, realising what he was about to say. When Australia went nuclear. “My god. Double check on that signal. We have to be sure about this.” 

“I did so before alerting you to the situation. I am aware of what ATHN-437 contained.” Winston dropped the jar to the floor and his chair spun to the console, his fingers moving across the keys as he isolated the signal to a specific location in the harsh desert surrounding Uluru. 

“If it were to get into the wrong hands…” He whispered, swallowing thickly as looked across the signals of Overwatch agents, wondering desperately, if any of them could get to it before it was put to use… Realising that only two recent additions to the group were anywhere near the locale. “Athena, we might just have to pray.”

~ 

“Woo hoo! Got get ‘em hog!” The man let out a maniacal laugh as the rig gained speed across the flats, dust kicking up in their wake as the bike in their sights struggled to maintain pace. His friend in the driver seat let out a harsh bark of a laugh, stepping up the gas as his own grin widened. 

That bike was just going to be another pile of scrap in their wake now. His tongue rolled over his lips as he aimed his launcher at the foe and fired, a cackle of laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest as the grenades hit their mark. 

The bike skidded and tumbled in the dirt, the rider rising with the force of the blast, his screams messing with music of the metal ripping into shreds. 

“Coo ey! That was a good shot, if I do say so meself!” He looked down at his partner. “Anymore on the dar, Roadie?” 

“Got a pack closing in from the south.” The man grunted, and Junkrat couldn’t help but giggle as he jumped down from the back of the truck into the passenger seat, looking down to the cracked screen of makeshit radar he’d cobbled together from some old tech.

“Caw, can’t think why they’d be coming in hot like that. Fast too.” He laughed, his grin splitting his face in two, “Maybe they’re angry we took a few of their slabs. Or maybe it was the goodbye present I left in the dunny?” He could tell that his friend was unimpressed by his banter. “Oh come on, Roadie, you liked that one. Took me long enough to set it up too. Would have been a sight to see that shit storm.” 

“Junkrat.” His voice was low and serious now, and Jamie knew exactly what he meant. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t ‘ave to tell me twice.” He climbed back up onto the back of the large truck-tank hybrid, taking on of the mines from the pouch at his belt and throwing it into the sand. One, two, three. That was all he had left. Hopefully it would be enough to do some preliminary damage. If they got too close. He could see now, in the distance, the sand being kicked up by their pursuers. Large clouds much larger than anything he and Roadhog had ever kicked up. “Looks like they’re sending in the big guns, Roadie. I’ve been waiting for a chance to let this little sucker loose.” He ripped open the hatch of the tank portion of their truck, jumping in, his body fitting snugly into the cavity he had welded and hammered out of the scrap left behind by the omnic crisis. The interior of the ‘tank’ itself is a bit of an odd job, buttons for days because well, sometimes he liked to just press buttons to see what they would do, and he’d made sure that they all did something. He wasn’t quite sure what they all did yet, but considering the amount of explosives and engineering he’d put into it, he was pretty sure it would do something spectacular. Either that or blow himself up. He was fairly sure that half the tech he’d cobbled together into this mess was purely for entertainment purposes though, so it would really be a surprise! 

“Let’s see exactly what they’re packing, ey?” He pulls up the targeting display, the thing only just flickering on and flickering as it struggles to maintain its power, though it does its job.Three large vehicles filled to the brim with raiders flanked by two dirt bikes. All modded out with guns the likes Jamie could only dream about taking apart. What really caught his eye though, was what was lingering in the back. It didn’t look like their usual cobbled together shit, looked like something foreign that was for sure. Guess that’s what dirty money and tech gets you. 

It reminded him of something though, in the back of his mind. Something old, something he saw… once a long time ago, but he couldn’t quite remember. 

Oh well, what did it matter? It had to be blown up all the same. 

“Come on ya hunk of junk! Give me a target.” The computer whined and spluttered, before finally beginning to lock onto one of the vehicles, Jamie’s fingers twitching at the console as he tracked the truck. As soon as the system blared at him, in weak and dull tones he promised himself he’d one day fix to something a bit more appropriate, those itchy trigger fingers pressed the big red button. Because hell, why wouldn’t it be a big red button? He felt the truck lurch and heard the rather large and satisfying sound of something launching. Though to be honest he wasn’t exactly sure what, in this case it could have been the junker missile, or the happy package, or perhaps it could have been semi-nuclear confetti bomb. 

Personally he was rooting for the confetti bomb, it had taken months to get that working. 

He watched with baited breath as the projectile raced towards the target, and on impact the missile exploded into a blast of shrapnel that ripped into two of the nearby trucks. The blast itself having transformed its target into nothing more than a pile of junk. The people inside would be lucky to escape with their bodies intact, let alone their lives. 

Jamie couldn’t help the peals of laughter that escaped him as he began to target the remaining trucks.

“These buggers don’t even know what they’re messing with!” 

~

The canister sat in front of you, like it was teasing you. The lock was holding fast against all of your codes, your hacking knowledge (what little there was) and your engineering know-how. You had only one recourse. 

“Mommy’s gotta bring out the hot stuff, Maxie.” You turned to look at the little boy in his playpen and he didn’t even look up at you, far too entranced with the shiny metal keys dangling above him. That kid loved keys, you had no idea what it was, but keys seemed to be like catnip to the kid. “I know buddy, might be going overboard here, but it’s the last option.” You pulled down the metal shield over your face and turned the plasma cutter on. 

It cut through every stage of the lock like it was butter, but the heat was immense. Whatever was in this thing you damn well hoped it wasn’t made of paper. 

You pulled your mask off when you were don and lifted the lid, barely able to contain your excitement. 

“What in the hell is this thing?” It was big, whatever it was. Large enough to fit over your whole arm and then cover your shoulder. An experimental weapons of some kind? You highly doubted it, you knew a lot about Overwatch weaponry, and well… doubted that was what it was used for. Still…you couldn’t help but pull it out of the canister, balking a little at how light it was compared to the container itself. “The fuck is it even made of?” 

It looked almost like a prosthetic limb, but rather than being solid it was hollow, and instead of a hand it had a grip obviously for someone to hold onto. Obviously, whatever it was, you put it over your arm and shoulder. 

You swallowed thickly as you fitted it over your right arm, hand closing over the grip as the white metallic substance it was made of closed around your flesh. As it did, the seams of the device lit up, a symbol on the back of the hand becoming apparent where it hadn’t been before. 

“Athena Lance Protocol Engage.” 

“Athena?” You whispered, heart pounding wilding as the computerised voice filtered through. It couldn’t be… the AI Winston had be working on?

“Scanning biological partner.” You felt a soft tingle through your arm, unpleasant and the armature tightened painfully. “Unidentified biological signature detected. Identify yourself.” 

You swallowed thickly, realising that the next words you spoke could, very likely, cost you your arm.

“Callsign Artemis.” 

“Confirming callsign and bio-signature with data records. Confirmation complete. Beginning Lance Interface Procedure.” 

That was when you started to scream.

~


End file.
